A Bundle of Lavender and Rosemary
by ladymal
Summary: Saehin Lavellan celebrates the Dalish holiday, Enansal'vunin, with gifts and a question for Solas.


Saehin was lurking outside the door to the rotunda. She tried not to be obvious about it but when the Inquisitor engaged in a battle of wills with a door, people tended to notice. More than a few of the nobles milling about in the hall had given her curious glances and she'd had to use more than one flat stare to quickly send them on their way.

"Something the matter, Violet?" Varric asked, finally looking up from his paperwork. "I only ask because you seem like you're planning to set fire to something and the guests are starting to get anxious."

"That's their default state when I'm around," she dismissed. An Orlesian in a black and white mask was edging his way closer— hoping to eavesdrop, she had no doubt— but a narrow-eyed look reminded him of somewhere else to be. "I don't know why."

"I can't imagine." She blinked at Varric's dry tone but he only smirked and nodded at the box in her hands. "Nervous?"

Rolling her shoulders uncomfortably, she shook her head. "About what?"

"You're not the first Dalish elf, I've known, remember?" That's right. He knew the former First of Clan Sabrae; one of the few that celebrated Enansal'vunin with Clan Lavellan."Thanks for the cards, by the way. You painted them yourself, right?"

Saehin sighed. There was a reason she'd left each of her friend's gifts in secret— namely, to avoid the very awkwardness that was currently crawling around her belly— but there was no point in denying it now.

"You are supposed to have a hand in making the gift, if possible." Shrugging, she glanced away. "I can paint."

"No denying that." He grinned and shook his head but she thought there was something fond about it. "Go sweep Chuckles off his feet, Sad Eyes. Before you scare off all of the money."

"As if they have feelings," she muttered as she reached for the door handle, earning a snort from the dwarf.

"Not many, anyway," he called out as the door closed behind her.

* * *

Solas was at his desk when she walked in, an open book in front of him. Her stomach fluttered and she hesitated in the doorway. _This is a foolish idea._ But then he looked up and smiled— warm and pleased to see her— and some of her nerves eased. _You've had worse_ , she told herself as she made her way over to him.

"Vhenan," he greeted.

"Hello." Stopping in front of his desk, she looked for an empty place to set the box but not an inch of it was clear. She ended up holding it awkwardly, somewhere between keeping it and putting it down, and she had to swallow a sigh. "I have a gift for you. Two gifts."

Raising an eyebrow, he got to his feet and came around to stand beside her as she kept talking.

"Today is Enansal'vunin. In my clan, it is a day where we give gifts to our loved ones." She peered at him from beneath her lashes but he didn't seem to have any reaction to the revelation. "That's you."

His lips twitched and he coughed. Choking on a laugh, she was certain and a blush heated her face as she frowned. _This is going well._

"I am sorry. I didn't intend to laugh but I promise that it was not at you." He cradled her cheek in his hand and kissed away the furrow of her brow. "Gifts are unnecessary but thank you."

"You don't even know what they are," she said as he gently took the box from her hands.

"Whatever they are, the value in them is the thought you put into it, vhenan." Smiling again, he looked down at her. "Though I do admit to some curiosity."

He sat the box down on top of his desk, heedless of the parchment that crinkled slightly beneath it, and lifted the lid. Inside were little pots of pigment, vibrant powders inside glass. Nestled among them were sprigs of lavender and rosemary bundled together with a bit of leather and a simple steel ring.

Saehin was watching him closely and something flashed in his expression but it was too quick and too subtle for her to catch. His long fingers reached into the box and her heart stuttered but he didn't take out the ring. Instead, he lifted one of the bottles of pigment slightly and smiled at the ultramarine within.

Solas turned to her and the softness in his eyes made warmth unfurl in her chest. "Thank you, vhenan. That you would think to do this…It means a great deal to me."

Relief and disappointment and pleasure warred in equal measure. He didn't appear to realize some other answer was expected or even that she'd asked a question at all. She'd half expected it— he wasn't Dalish, after all, and perhaps didn't even know what bonding was— but she hadn't known of any other way to ask. Even now, the words were clinging to her throat with tiny claws and no matter how much frustration pounded at them, she couldn't break them loose.

He kissed her then, apparently uncaring of the crowds above for once, and she gave it up. She grinned against his lips as he pulled her close. _Coward_ , she thought at herself but it didn't have much of a sting when the feel of loving and being loved was so near.

Her question would just have to wait.

* * *

Later that evening, Solas sat in the rotunda alone. The library and rookery were quiet, most having already retired. Normally, he would already be in bed and dreaming, as well, but his mind and heart were restless. He rolled the bundle of rosemary and lavender between his fingers and frowned. The flowers and needles had begun to fade but they still released a strong burst of scent, sweet and sharp and earthy.

He had been…surprised to see them placed between the pigments almost like an afterthought. At first, he'd assumed the gesture to be unintentional but Saehin's careful expression had told him otherwise. He hadn't wanted to hurt her by avoiding explanations he could not give so he had pretended ignorance and she had seemed to accept it. It wasn't quite a lie. If not for the spirits that flocked to such sentiments in droves, he would have been.

'Bonding,' as the Dalish called it, mattered little to him. His feelings for her would remain the same regardless but tying his life to hers and all that would mean…It was more tempting than he would have thought possible.

He removed the ring from its bundle and stared at it in thought. It was silver, smooth and simple, but a short phrase was inscribed on the inside. _Ar lath ma_. Something painful and beautiful pounded in his chest as he slipped the ring onto his finger. It fit perfectly and a small smile warmed his face.

 _Ar lath ma, my heart._


End file.
